Curiosity
by El loopy
Summary: A number of oneshots centered around Buffy and Spike on the theme of 'Curiosity'. Spike x Buffy to varying degrees. 6) Set post 4x16. Faith in Buffy's body taunted Spike in the Bronze. Now he wants some payback...in a slightly different from usual manner.
1. Underestimated

**A/N So these are going to be a number of oneshots centered around Buffy and Spike on the theme of Curiosity. I've tried to make them so that they slot within the canon and can be viewed as missing scenes, but have not quite succeeded with them all. That being said, they do not follow on from one another at all so please read them all separately.**

 **This one is set post 2x22 'Becoming (part 2)'. Spike is curious about what happened with Acathla and goes back to see. Enjoy.**

* * *

Underestimated

That bloody Slayer was inside his head.

Spike stared harder at the road, trying to ignore the compulsion that tugged at his insides, the compulsion to go back and see what happened. He set his jaw resolutely and exhaled sharply through his nose.

He decided that he did not care and settle Drusilla more comfortably against him. What would he do with his pet anyway? She might wake up. She would be mad. She might run away. The creature called Curiosity gnawing away at his self control momentarily ceased its feast to point out that there were chains in the back of the car, if he were interested. He ignored it...and saw in the distance the sign that meant he was about to leave Sunnydale...leave without knowing...

What he did know was that he wasn't being pursued by the mouth of hell, that much was obvious by the lack of screaming wind and dragging sensation. That must mean she had won right?

"But how?" he barked out loud, surprising himself and jolting Dru. Angel had been about to skewer her with a sword. How could she have survived? Yet Acathla was dormant – so Angel's blood must have sealed him in...

"Bloody hell," he muttered and rolled his eyes. Wrenching on the wheel he did a full U-turn on the still empty roads, screeching past the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign.

* * *

She was crunched in a ball when he arrived back at the mansion, facing the statue with her knees drawn close to her chest, her back to him. He couldn't see a sword. He couldn't see Angel. He hovered, a black shadow in a leather coat, watching her, wondering if his curiosity was satisfied enough to merely see that she lived – against all odds. He was about to melt away again when she spoke.

"I thought you said you weren't coming back." Her voice was deadpan, matter-of-fact.

"Haven't left the country yet baby," he replied, equally coolly.

"Wanted to know what happened, huh?" she tilted her head to look at him now, her face streaked with tears in the dirt and dust, "that's not like you."

"You don't know me." It was a statement, his eyes were sharp and her face became even more grim than before.

"I guess not."

Her eyes went back to the statue and Spike took a couple of steps closer to stand behind her, just out of staking distance – their truce, after all, was completed.

"How come our mate here isn't sucking us all into hell then?" he asked, gaze staring down the statue. He sensed her look up at him with that wry quirk of her eyebrows, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Nice to hear you had such faith in me."

"Nothing personal," he shrugged, "when I left you were about to be brutally stabbed through the heart, rather ironically given your profession."

He felt the sarcastic glare turn searing and resisted the urge to take a step back.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you didn't stick around to help," she snapped. He didn't respond so she turned back to the statue with an angry huff. He waited, knowing she wouldn't be silent for long, she wasn't the type.

"You know..." there it was, "you vamps keep underestimating me. I'd have thought you'd have learned by now..."

Spike scrolled his eyes down to look at the back of her head. He found himself admiring the glow of her hair, even in the darkness, savouring the scent of her perfume. He felt the desire to draw closer, to touch her. It was an unusual reaction given the circumstances.

"I never learn," he inter-toned solemnly and she looked back at him. The edges of his lips curled up in a dangerous smile with a quirk of his head, "that's part of the fun."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, and he realised that she had never answered his question.

"Where is out mutual enemy then?"

Her eyes snapped away from his so fast he barely had time to register the flash of pain. He'd found the source of her tears then. It amused him that the almighty Slayer did have a weakness after all.

"Probably in Hell," her voice wavered as she pointed at Acathla, the guilt and grief bleeding through, "soul and all."

The smugness in his chest died instantly.

"His soul?"

She nodded. As she did he felt every muscle in his body tense for flight and alarm bells sounded in his head. He had faced many Slayers in his time and killed them most satisfyingly, but of them all this one was the most dangerous. She was right, he did underestimate her. If he didn't he would be well away from here, not daring to stand in the same room. She had defeated Angelus. She had destroyed the man she loved, soul and all for the sake of the world. Dangerous didn't fully cover it.

He couldn't help but feel it was unfair that she looked so much like a helpless teenage girl, just a pretty airhead, and yet was so deadly. Was it any wonder they underestimated her?

"Ouch," was all he said in the end and she didn't bother to reply. "So what's next?"

"Why do you care?" she muttered suspiciously and he had to concede that it was a good question.

"Call it curiosity," he murmured back.

He didn't think she would reply but to his surprise she just shrugged.

"I've got nothing to lose by telling you." Her voice was deadpan. "Mom kicked me out. The impotent troll expelled me. I've got no plan, no where to go..."

"Fire-axe kicked you out?" The surprise exploded from him in a bark of almost laughter. The Slayer turned accusing eyes onto him, wet with tears and he tried to wipe the smirk off his face, not quite managing.

"It must _suck_ to be you at the moment."

He didn't say what he could have – that he knew mothers. Mothers sometimes said things they didn't mean and no mother that defended her daughter with a fire axe would in her right mind kick her daughter out. He didn't say any of this of course. As far as he was concerned a Slayer in any sort of pain was a good thing.

"Oh...and I'm wanted for murder. No biggie." She looked back at the grave of her ex-boyfriend and missed the sudden gleam that lit up Spike's eyes.

"Well you can't stay here then" he crouched down behind her, on her level, almost close enough to whisper in her ear. He could smell her. A single breath was intoxicating. She twisted slightly to glance at him, highlighting the curve of her neck. He gave her his best concerned face and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"What are you suggesting?" Her voice was harsh, thick with tears and anger. "That I should leave?"

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

"I'm suggesting that there are other options than being somewhere you are wanted for murder." He let his eyes pierce her own, burn into her. "After all," he murmured slowly, "what have you got to lose?"

She stared at him a long moment before turning away again. That was enough he decided, he didn't want to push too hard. A Slayer-less Sunnydale would be ideal should he ever want to return.

The movement of her head caused her hair to slip to the side. His eyes tracked the curve of her neck and imagined the taste of it. He couldn't remember the last Slayer being so attractive. He'd always wanted to bite them of course, but for very different reasons. His face began to contort, fangs lengthening...

"Don't even think about it buddy."

He blinked and the moment was gone. She wasn't even looking at him, how had she done that?

"I think it's time that you left."

He rose to his feet in time with her. She spun around, thankfully stake-less, toe-to-toe with him, head tilting up to look him in the eye. He felt tension zing between them and swallowed hard. She seemed to be unaware of it.

"Good idea," he agreed wholeheartedly and took a step back. She held her ground, watching as he retreated out the building. Just before leaving entirely he paused to look back.

She stood differently to the way she had earlier that night. Her eyes were older, grief weighed heavier on her shoulders, but she had never looked more magnificent.


	2. Just friends

**A/N Set post 3x8 'Lover's walk'. Spike doesn't leave Sunnydale straight away. He is curious about something and now seems the perfect opportunity to look into it. This one is slightly more AU. Enjoy.**

* * *

Just friends

She had barely shut the front door when her Mom appeared next to her. Her arms were folded and her eyes were angry.

"So when were you going to tell me that Angel was back?"

Buffy dropped her head and screwed her eyes shut. She really couldn't deal with this right now.

"Mom, please..."

"When are you going to stop keeping secrets from me?" She could hear the hurt and the accusation. It was almost enough to make her feel guilty...

"Look I'm sorry but I knew you'd wig out!"

"Well I'm wigging out young lady."

...had her Mom not been proving her right that was.

"Mom..." her chest was beginning to tighten, as though she couldn't breath, her legs bracing to run. It took all her self control to stay put.

"Don't 'Mom' me. He almost killed us on several occasions, tried to kill you and your friends. You had to put up...whatever it was to keep him out and now you've invited him back in again..."

"Mom!" This time she shouted and Joyce cut off mid-rant, finally looking properly at her daughter. Buffy was on the edge of tears, her eyes panicked, gripping the side table hard enough to make her skin white. "Mom, I just..." she took a steadying breath, "I just need a minute. Willow..."

"Is she all right?" and suddenly she had been reminded of why Angel had been in the house in the first place.

"She's fine," Buffy hastily reassured, "but her and Xander..." she changed her mind, not really Mom stuff, "...Cordelia was hurt, badly, and..." her voice faltered. "Look, can you shout at me later? Tonight is fine," she clarified hurriedly at the spark in her Mom's eye, "but right now I just...need a minute."

There was a heavy, tension filled silence for a moment while she pleaded with her eyes and to her surprise Joyce's face softened a little.

"Okay," she conceded, "but," she jumped in as Buffy made to bolt, "we will carry this conversation on tonight." Nodding with relief Buffy was already halfway out the back door. "No further than the gate," she heard her Mom yell behind as the door slammed shut and she escaped into the garden.

The night air was cool against her flushed cheeks and she took a deep steadying breath. College, Angel, Cordelia, Willow and Xander...her head was spinning. She just needed quiet. That small voice inside her whispered for her to run again, to go somewhere life was simpler. She was getting better at ignoring it...at least as far as not crossing the town line, but it had been shouting at her in the house. She was beginning to realise that it may never go away fully. She would have to learn to control it. Her garden would suffice as a haven for now.

Slowly she breathed again and worked her way through one of the sequences of moves Angel had taught her. It calmed her and silenced the voice.

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

She reacted on instinct, training kicking in as she flashed around, reflex sharp and punched him in the face.

"Ow!" Spike staggered back a step and rubbed his jaw. "What was that for?"

Buffy felt the muscles in her shoulders relax and dropped her fighting stance, her eyes narrowing at the intruder.

"I thought you'd gone."

"Yeah, well, turns out I haven't." He was giving her his best injured expression, hand still on his jaw.

"Oh," Buffy raised her eyebrows and put on her sweetest sarcastic tone, "does that mean I get to kill you?"

Spike huffed and stood up straight.

"Well I think your lack of welcome is very rude given that I've come back to see _you._ "

"Me?" She was startled for a moment before suspicion took over. "Why?"

His eyes lit up dangerously and he smirked.

"Let's call it...curiosity." She eyes him warily and his smile grew wider. "So you and Angel, you aren't together?"

He was beginning to circle around in front of her and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"Not that it's any of your business..." her eyes tracked his movements, "...but no, we're..."

"Just friends," he cut her off mockingly, his voice amused, "yes, you've said." He raised his eyebrows in a 'now really?' look and it infuriated her, mostly because he was right.

"That's what Dru said to me, you know, before she left, 'we can still be friends.'"

Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Oh please tell me you didn't come back here to whine on about Drusilla? I thought you were over that."

He ignored her.

"Just friends she said," he scowled for a moment before his expression cleared. "So Dru and I are just friends," he gestured at her, "and you and Angelus are just friends..."

"What's your point?" she knew she was doing her teeth gritted voice but he was really beginning to irritate her. "I don't see what..."

He grabbed her so quickly that he had caught her wrists between them before she could react. She hadn't realised he'd gotten so close. She twisted in his grasp, trying to pull her legs up to kick, but he merely moved with her, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Will you stop squirming," he forced out in annoyance.

"Why? So you can bite me?" she snapped back.

"I'm not going to bite you," he said in exasperation, "but the more you struggle the more your heart gets pumping the blood around. You're making it kind of hard to ignore."

She stilled in self-preservation, noticing that he still wore his attractive human face rather than the vampire one.

"There. Isn't that more friendly," he smiled patronisingly and loosened his grip on her wrists ever so slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked again, fury at her captivity simmering. All her awareness was focused on his hands on her skin. The second he relaxed she was going to beat him to a bloody pulp.

"I'm intrigued about something," Spike replied, tilting his head. "It's been bothering me for a while now but I was too hung up on Dru to really pay it any attention." She rolled her eyes up in a 'well?' expression and his mouth flattened in annoyance. "All you have to do," he spelt out patronisingly, "is stand still and keep your suspicious Slayer eyes on me."

"Oh don't worry," she assured, "I won't be letting them stray anywhere else." She knew how it sounded the second the words left her mouth.

"That's all I ask," he smirked.

She kept her eyes on him, as he had requested, and silence fell. In the silence her other senses sharpened. She could feel the dark of the night on her skin, sweet and refreshing, everywhere except where his fingers wrapped around her wrists, both rough and smooth and cool. She kept her eyes settled on his mouth, waiting for any fang action. It never came and instead she found herself oddly fascinated, oddly drawn in...wondering...In horror at her thoughts she pulled her gaze back onto his own and they locked. His expression sent a sharp jolt through her stomach, every nerve end tingling. She swallowed, aware again of his touch on her skin, his fingers no longer restraining her but softly circling.

"I thought so," he murmured, voice deep and low, eyes never leaving her own.

"What?" she whispered back.

"You feel it too," his voice was seductive, the British accent thickening.

"No I don't," she protested weakly, but realised belatedly that at some point the gap between them had closed so she could feel all of him against her, and her eyes dropped to his lips again for a different reason. When he moved his head to hers, her mouth opened under his kiss with no resistance and her head swam, sparked, exploded. It was a long, heat-filled kiss, different from any she'd shared with Angel. The hunger was sharper and yet more controlled, her body urging to be closer, for more, however her mind was completely her body's slave yet.

Spike drew back with a self-satisfied grin.

"Wow!" He let out a puff of air, "I gotta tell ya Slayer I wasn't..." she cut him off with a punch straight in the face and followed it up with a kick to the gut. Spike staggered back with a groan, quickly followed with a laugh which made her blood boil. "You know, I _knew_ you felt it too." He was doing his giddy 'I've had a revelation routine' and it pissed her off. Parts of her body still sang from the kiss, the memory speeding up her heart rate.

"Felt what?" she snapped, itching for him to get closer again so she could hit him. Spike gave her an admonishing look and tutted in exasperation.

"You like to be in denial about everything, don't you?" When she didn't respond he continued, "The spark baby. The heat. The attraction..." he grinned slyly, "between us."

"Don't flatter yourself," she snipped, "I hate you. If I had a stake on me you would be so staked right now."

"Hate? Ha!" he gave a derisive smile. "You think that because you hate me you're immune to this?" His face grew serious, eyes hot on her own. "Hate only adds an exciting sting."

She was shaking inside, although she was outwardly still.

"Get the hell out of Sunnydale," she forced out finally, "and this time stay out...or I really will kill you."

Spike held his hands up in mock surrender, tilting his head in a false admission of defeat.

"All right – I'm going." He took a step backwards and straightened up.

"I was just curious, you know, and it seemed like the perfect timing, I mean," he gestured to himself, "I am unattached," he flourished his hand to her, "and you are unattached so I thought hey," he shrugged, "why not give it a go."

"I don't think you're listening to me," Buffy uttered dangerously and took a step forward. "Get – out!"

"There is no pleasing you people," he muttered in exasperation and flinched back as she raised her fist.

"All right, all right, I'm going." He turned away but paused with a tilt of his head, a satisfied smirk back on his face. "Violence and a hot make out." He gave a pleased nod. "Yeah, really glad I came back here."

Buffy waited until he was out of the gate before she finally dropped her stance and turned her attention to returning inside. Her heart still thundered in her chest.

"You know..." she froze as he materialised back at the gate, unable to believe his arrogance. He leaned on the fence and made sure their eyes locked. His voice was low and dark as he spoke to her. "You and I would be good together baby, once you're over the whole Angelus thing I mean. Maybe when you're older, if it doesn't pan out with Dru, you could look me up."

She was actually going to kill him, maybe with the fence post. He must have seen murder in her eyes as she stepped purposely towards him because in the next instant he was gone. His last words floating away from her.

"Just think about it."

Buffy stood there a while longer waiting for her blood to simmer down. She was angry at him for coming back, and angry at her body for the betrayal. Punching him had made her feel better about the Willow–Xander-Cordelia mess though.

She heard her Mom open the back door and yell out into the darkness.

"Buffy, we need to have that chat now."

"I'll be right in," she replied absently, still staring at the place Spike had disappeared. When she was older...did older mean college? Her fingers reached up to touch her lips and she recoiled from herself. No! Absolutely not! That was never going to happen. One vampire lover in a lifetime was quite enough. With a decided nod she headed back towards the house, one thought very clear in her mind. She didn't care what her friends and Mom said about keeping secrets; she wasn't telling anyone about this.


	3. Girl talk

**A/N Set between 4x8 'Pangs and before 4x9 'Something blue'. It is Willow and Buffy's turn to watch Spike for the night and his presence sparks a conversation between them. I thought it would make an interesting background to Willow's wish in 'Something blue'. Enjoy.**

* * *

Girl talk

Willow leaned forward on her bed in their dorm room, that smile on her face that she always wore when she was talking about something a little bit risqué. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Aren't you just a little bit...curious?"

Buffy gave a half laugh, half outraged gasp from her own bed. "Willow!"

Willow gave her one of those looks, those 'come on now, tell me the truth' looks.

"No! No I am not curious about..."she couldn't even finish the sentence, her eyes glancing towards the third figure in the room, securely tied up and thankfully sleeping, "...that."

"Really?" Willow gave a confused frown, her eyes also landing on the sleeping vampire. "But he's so...I don't know what it is..."

Buffy smiled affectionately at her friend.

"Wow Will, I wouldn't have put you down as liking the bad boys."

"It's not like _that_ ," she protested and then shrugged self-consciously, "I think there's this side of him, you know, that he doesn't tend to let us see. You especially."

Buffy raised her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Yes!" Her insistent tone broke through, it came out so rarely, particularly these days since Oz had left. She lowered her voice again. "So when he kidnapped me and Xander that time he was just so cut up about Drusilla leaving him – I think he really loved her, you know – and then when he came here to kill me and couldn't and I was feeling all rubbish 'cause Oz had, you know, left, and he was really reassuring..." at Buffy's expression she trailed off.

"Will, can you hear yourself? Kidnapped you, tried to kill you, does that not put you off?"

Willow shrugged again. "Sure he's got a few issues with the whole killing and eating people thing but so did Oz."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Willow broke it.

"Come on," she wheedled, "you've _never_ thought about it?"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably and looked away with a small smile.

"Well..."

"I _knew_ it!" Willow exclaimed excitedly with a vigorous point of her finger. Buffy gave her a warning look and she dropped her finger. "Sorry." The smug smile remained on her face though. They both glanced at the sleeping figure but he didn't stir.

"I sometimes imagine," Willow whispered, "that we've been left alone together, after a big fight against other vampires or something, and he's protected me, and then he kisses me."

Buffy widened her eyes, "You got it _bad_ Wills!"

Willow shook her head emphatically, a sad smile twisting the corner of her mouth. "Not really...because then Oz comes in and beats him up for daring to lay a hand on me and then Oz and I...well...you know..." she trailed off slightly embarrassed and then turned the tables.

"What do you think about?" she prompted, eagerly leaning forward. Buffy smiled and shook her head at her friend's daring.

"Nothing as specific as you...but...you know," she glanced again at the blonde head, "he's around a lot these days and he's not _un-_ attractive _."_ She shrugged, "I...notice, sometimes." She amended quickly, "but then he opens his mouth and I just want to hurt him – badly."

"That's fair," Willow nodded.

Buffy was studying their unwanted guest with a far off look in her eye. "He certainly has an appeal, that whole 'I'm sexy and I know it' overconfidence thing."

Willow nodded in agreement before adding, "Just so you know Buffy," her friend looked at her earnest expression, "I would never...This is all just girl talk...you know?"

"Oh God, yeah, I know," Buffy reassured vigorously. "Neither would I."

"And why on earth not?" They both jumped as the British accent spoke from the allegedly sleeping figure. "It all sounds like an excellent idea to me." Spike twisted his head to look at them with sharp blue eyes. "Except for the getting beaten up by the Werewolf ex part."

Willow turned a panicked expression to her friend but Buffy was completely calm.

"Why are you awake Spike?"

"It's night time," he replied smoothly, "and my ears were burning."

"Well I don't see why," Buffy shrugged. "We never mentioned your name. That's so typical of you Spike that you arrogantly think we were talking about you, as if we would."

"Sounded a lot like me," he replied in a low voice.

Buffy got to her feet and stalked over.

"You are not welcome here. We do not want you here. The only reason you are is because we are doing Giles a favour so he can get his house repaired. If you are so rude to be eavesdropping into our conversations then at least have the decency to get it right."

He tilted his head to one side, giving her his 'really? Is that the best you can do?' expression.

"I _did_ get it right. _You_ – are – lying."

Buffy took a step back and slapped her hands against her legs. "You know what? It's not even worth it." She turned to go back to the bed but again his voice halted her.

"Prove it isn't me," Buffy spun slowly on her heel and looked at him like he was an idiot.

"What?"

Spike regarded her languidly.

"Come back here and prove to me that you aren't..." he glanced past her to Willow, "...curious."

Willow blushed at the use of her word, mortification that he'd clearly heard the whole conversation spreading like prickling heat over her skin.

"I have nothing to prove to you Spike," Buffy snapped but Spike only raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't realise the Slayer was such a chicken."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That isn't going to work on me."

"Okay," Spike shrugged and scrolled his gaze to Willow. "What about you Red? You still got that lilac top..."

Buffy stepped protectively in front of her friend who was stammering furiously.

"Leave her alone." She had her bossy Slayer voice on and she could hear it. Spike smirked. If his hands had been free he'd have folded them behind his head.

"Come over here and – make – me." His voice was taunting, deep and suggestive. Buffy felt a strange tug on her insides but resolutely ignored it.

"Fine," she snipped with a false smile and moved back over to him, "let's do it your way Spike." She stood in front of him so he had to tilt his head back slightly to see her face. "What were you thinking precisely?" She was daring him.

He tilted his hands at her. "Well you could untie me?"

She smiled, making her voice enquiring.

"But I thought you liked that kind of thing."

He was surprised, she had surprised _herself_ , and the appraisingly look that he gave her in response wrenched her insides.

"Indeed," he murmured with a suggestive smirk. "Why don't you just untie my legs then? Let me stand."

Knowing he was unable to hurt anyone and couldn't run away while she was there to stop him, Buffy lowered herself to the floor, making sure her eyes never left his.

"You getting worried Slayer?" he murmured.

She broke eye contact long enough to grab the knife Willow brought over, before rapidly retreating to her bed.

"I've got nothing to be worried about," she returned as she started on the ropes. The movement of cutting caused her to lean against him and she felt him start. Her own heart rate shot up and she took a steadying breath before continuing. Every movement heightened her awareness of him. He wasn't even speaking so she couldn't even focus on that off putting part of his character.

As the last strand snapped Spike got to his feet so fast Buffy had to leap to her own to catch up, stumbling a little, which Spike used to his advantage. While she was still off balance he stepped forward, forcing her backwards with his body until she was against the wall. She raised a fist to hit him but he blocked it with his still-tied hands, his eyes meeting hers over the top of them with such intensity she felt her insides groan.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

He shifted slightly so she felt all of him against her, his weight gently pining her. Every nerve flared with fire. She internally berated herself for getting into this mess.

"Why aren't you speaking?" she asked suspiciously, hoping he couldn't hear the breathless note in her voice.

"When I open my mouth you want to hurt me, remember?" he replied smoothly, before moving his face closer to hers. "Just giving it a fair chance is all."

She swallowed hard. His blue eyes were catching her, compelling her. His gaze dropped to her lips, invitingly.

"Are you curious yet?"

His eyes were half shut. His voice was low, yearning, seductive.

"Well Slayer?"

Their lips practically brushed and tension crackled between them.

A cough. A quavering voice. "Erm...guys..."

The atmosphere shattered into thousands of shards. Buffy slammed her palms into the vampire so hard he fell back into his chair.

"Hey!" he protested with a yell.

Willow flinched from where she was still sitting.

"I wasn't sure I should say anything but things were getting pretty intense..."

Buffy ran a hand distractedly through her hair and gave her friend a grateful look.

"Thanks Willow."

"I knew it," Spike laughed gleefully from his seat. "You _were_ curious." He dropped his voice low. "You _liked_ it."

Buffy looked over at Willow again and shrugged, "...and now I just want to kill him again."

"You can try and deny it but it still happened," Spike taunted as she retied his legs, "you wanted me to...ow!"

She glanced up at him, pretending to look upset.

"I'm sorry, was that too tight?"

Spike merely smirked in a self-satisfied way.

"You _wanted_ me."

Buffy rolled her eyes with a huff of breath.

"Oh pur-lease. Get over yourself."

Spike gave her a look and she returned it steadily.

"Want to go again?"

With no further regrets she dragged his chair into the closet and slammed the door on his protests.

"After tonight we are never having him over," she jerked her thumb at the closed door and Willow nodded vigorously.

"Agreed."

"Oh and Wills..." Buffy gave her friend a pleading look but didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Not a word. My lips are sealed." Willow made the zipping motion with her hands and eyed the yelling closet warily. "Not ever."


	4. Avoidance

**A/N Set post 4x9 'Something blue'.** **After the events caused by the spell Buffy and Spike are both curious about something...  
**

* * *

Avoidance

Buffy pushed the unlocked door open and stepped into the gloomy interior. It was always gloomy at Giles', she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just part of his whole 'I'm a Watcher' nature, or maybe he thought that if it was too stimulating it might distract them from 'serious work'. Alternatively it may be just a British thing...it's not like she'd ever gone to Britain to check. She heard it rained a lot – that sounded pretty gloomy. Spike was British and he seemed to like it at Giles' too...no, she would not think about...him.

"Giles? You there?"

"Nope, just me."

Speak of the devil. Spike leaned his head back on the sofa and regarded her upside down.

"The Watcher is out."

She hiked her eyebrows at him, "and left you _alone._ " She could not have made her tone more patronising and he glared.

"I – don't – need – babysitting."

"Right." She gave him her best false smile. His eyes seared her skin and she felt the uncomfortable prickle inside herself. It was the silence that got her. In the silence she had room to think, to remember, to be curious...the nasty jibes were better and if there weren't any of those to be had...

"Well, I'd best be going then..."

"He'll be back soon," he interrupted coolly.

"It can wait," she shrugged. Her hand was already reaching for the door as she spoke. His taunting voice stopped her.

"You wouldn't be avoiding me, would you?"

She turned her head back to look at him. He unfolded gracefully from the sofa and stood in one fluid motion. She felt her stomach clench but pushed it away.

"Noooooo..." she drew out long and slow as though he were stupid. "I just don't want to be any where near you for any longer than I have to."

She turned back to the door only to stop again.

"So it has nothing to do with...what happened between us then?"

She could hear the gentle undertone of mockery. Her teeth gritted and her shoulders tensed.

"There is no us. We were under a spell."

"We were under a spell," Spike mimicked, creating the desired effect of Buffy spinning around and tossing her bag onto a side table.

"What is your problem?" she planted her hands on her hips. Spike smirked from the safety of the other side of the room, delighted to have riled her up. "You were just as repulsed by the whole thing as I was and what? Now you want to talk about it?"

"You know you _are_ gorgeous when you're angry."

She stilled suddenly before coming back to life, jabbing her finger at him.

"Don't do that."

He stalked around the sofa and settled back against it, an amused smile on his face the entire time.

"But it's true," he pouted. "It's one of the things that attracted me to..."

"Cut – it – out." She strode up to him, invading his space, simmering with violence. "It isn't funny," she hissed.

Now the smile dropped, his face becoming serious and intense.

"No, I guess not." His voice was low and smoky. "Aren't you just a little bit curious?"

She felt the fire of anger die and a cold claw of fear enter instead.

"Of what?" she replied shakily, knowing exactly.

"What it would be like without the spell?"

Their bodies were almost touching. Her face was tilted upwards towards his own, almost inviting. She knew how it looked if anyone were to come in right now. She could _feel_ how it looked...

"I mean," Spike continued, eyes settling on hers, "you must remember how it felt. Even with the spell broken those memories are still there." His voice had grown softer, more seductive and the memories he had spoken about simmered close. "I can still remember it." He bent his head to her ear. "I still want it." The breath of his words sent a pleasurable tingle down her nerves. "Aren't you just a little _curious_?"

Engaged Buffy's memories bubbled up, reminding her, flushing her with the feelings, the excitement, the want. Spike slipped his hands to her waist, closing the gap between them. Her breath caught. His eyes were fixed on her own intensely, leaving her breathless. He bent his head closer, lips almost brushing. Her head swam as she leaned in...prepared to give in...

A throat cleared behind her and she sprang away from Spike guiltily. She hadn't even heard the door open.

"Giles! We weren't...I mean this isn't..."

She cast her eyes desperately at Spike for some backup and her insides froze at the derisive smirk on his face.

"You are so easy."

She felt a small part of her insides shrivel, but she had been down this road before, one too many times, and this was classic Spike. She knew how to handle Spike. He really should have expected the swift punch to the nose.

"Normally," she said musingly as he gasped and swore, holding his nose in both hands, "your words would hurt me, but it is you after all, isn't it Spike." She gave a carefree smile and shrug. "With you I've kind of built up this...immunity to the utter crap you talk."

Giles continued to watch stoically from the doorway, holding the grocery bag containing Wheetabix.

"I think you broke my nose," Spike snarled nasally.

Buffy was already at the door.

"Oh..." she turned back, "...your definition of 'easy' by the way needs a look at."

Spike blinked at her through watering eyes.

"Remind me who wanted to wait until the honeymoon?" she hiked her eyebrows at him. Next to her Giles paled.

"Now...I don't think..." he stammered but Buffy was already advancing back on Spike, pointing her finger.

"...and who said, 'No love'," she mimicked his voice, "'I can't wait that long'," she made her tone whiny and pleading, shimmering her body up to his as they had been a moment ago, "'let's just do it now. Giles can't see.'" Giles paled further if possible. "'We'll just say we're going out. I want to..."

"Right, right, that's enough," Giles squawked with a wave of his hand. "For goodness sake."

Buffy had the presence of mind to look mildly embarrassed.

"Sorry...right...forgot you were here." She turned back to Spike, who had stopped holding his nose and was glaring at her in stony silence, their bodies still pressed together. "Just remember that Spike," she whispered harshly and twisted away from him. Within a few strides she had disappeared out the door and slammed it behind her.

"Well?" Giles dropped the bags on the counter once she'd gone and turned to his uninvited guest. "Who's benefit was that for?"

Spike stood staring after the Slayer but now turned to look at the ex-Watcher.

"What?" he twisted his face in the 'you're crazy' expression but Giles wouldn't be diverted. He took off his glasses to clean them.

"That little display. Was that you trying to convince her you didn't really want to kiss her, me, or yourself?"

Spike widened his eyes at Giles, looked back to the door, back to Giles and screwed his face up.

"Oh, shut up." With no more preamble he left the room.

Giles finished cleaning his glasses and slipped them back on his nose.

"Thought so," he muttered smugly.


	5. Eavesdropping

**A/N A little bit different this time. There is more focus on Dawn and Spike (not romantic) than Buffy and Spike. I had this idea when watching 5x9 and it seemed to work in this collection.**

* * *

Eavesdropping

"I cannot believe you did this!"

Her voice was loud and sharp, cutting through the kitchen door and his head like a knife. He flinched back slightly from the door he was listening behind – ever grateful that it wasn't him she was shouting at.

He heard a low murmur that was Lover Boy's response. It was clearly the wrong thing to say.

"The Initiative, Riley! In my house!"

Another murmur. Spike strained to hear.

"You shouldn't have even been calling them!"

A louder rumble, he thought he heard the word 'help'.

"Except that, as usual, I managed to deal with it myself."

Now he could hear Lover Boy getting angry, voice raised. He heard his name mentioned and smirked.

"What has Spike got to do with this?"

"Everything love," Spike murmured to himself and suddenly realised he was not alone. The younger Summer's girl was standing a few feet away staring at him. "What do you want?" he growled.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was loud – too loud – and as cutting as her sister's.

"Go away," he snapped in a low voice and she smiled in mischievous delight.

"Are you _spying_ on them? Can I join?"

He almost shook his head, almost snarled at her to bugger off, but he recognised that glint in her eye. If he said no there would be hell to pay.

Instead he jerked his head at the door and pressed a finger to his lips. Her face lit up with undisguised delight and she sneaked up to join him. The conversation had moved on, much to his annoyance.

"That is unfair," he could hear her voice choking slightly with tears, a quaver under the words and had to restrain himself from bursting in and putting Lover Boy through a window. The migraine would be worth it. Slayer had enough to deal with without wanker boyfriends making her cry. "You have no idea what I'm having to do at the moment..." and in that instant Spike's eyes dropped to Dawn's. They were wide and frightened. She was listening to her big sister fall apart and he knew Slayer would not want that. He straightened up abruptly and pointed to the door out the room. Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes.

"You've got to come too," she pouted.

"Fine," Spike snipped back and strode determinedly out. Dawn skipped up next to him.

"So, why were you listening at the door?"

Spike hid the flinch internally and answered in a rough tone.

"Just curious."

Dawn looked at him like she didn't believe him but dropped it.

"You _like_ her don't you?"

Now he stopped suddenly at the bottom of the stairs.

"Who? The Slayer?" he tried to sound as incredulous as he could but her raised eyebrows showed her lack of belief. He wasn't fooling her. "Believe me if I could kill her, I would."

"Why can't you?" her voice had that irritating high note of inquisitiveness. He was slightly hurt that Buffy had clearly never mentioned him, not in any detail anyway. He tapped his head.

"Damn thing up here. Bloody painful."

"So why don't you just shoot her or something? Something where she'd be dead before you experience the pain?"

He tensed his jaw. Bloody Summer's women. Too damn smart and this one seemed far too keen to encourage her sister's demise. He had never understood younger sisters.

"I tried that," he forced out finally, gravelly, not wanting to give details, especially like how it was only a week ago. "It didn't go well."

"Oh," she went quiet for a moment. "What about poison?"

He was saved from answering by a slamming of boots and Riley storming past them. He paused long enough to give Spike a glare, which the vampire coolly returned, before shutting the front door loudly.

"You don't like him."

It was an observant statement. He responded anyway.

"No."

"Xander doesn't either."

Spike looked again at the precocious fourteen year old. Were all teenage girls like this? He couldn't remember.

"Do you think they'll break up?"

He was saved from answering by Buffy's Mom appearing at the top of the stairs.

"Dawn? Honey?"

Spike stared at her a long moment, shock at her appearance shaking up his insides. He'd known it was bad but...

"Comin' Mom!" Dawn gave him one last piercing look before running up the stairs and steering Joyce back to the bedroom.

"Who was that you were talking to?" Her voice floated down to him. "He looks so familiar..."

The vampire swallowed hard and took a moment to let the shock fade. Mortality in all its ugliness – an invisible enemy on the inside. Buffy was watching her mother die and was unable to fight it.

He waited until he was sure that he could hide the emotion from his face, and then went through into the kitchen.

Buffy jumped guiltily in her seat at the breakfast bar, hands flying to her tear stained face, but on seeing it was him relaxed just a fraction. It was like warmth in his chest.

"You all right?" he asked softly, just as he had those nights ago and she nodded jerkily.

"Sure," her voice cracked, "why wouldn't I be?" The tears were still right there, still fresh. He took two steps closer before her stopped himself and realised that he had a choice. He could listen to her or distract her. He would be whatever she needed.

"Anyway I can help?"

She gave him an odd sidelong glance.

"Do you have the same script whenever a girl is crying?"

"No," he scoffed back in response, thinking instead 'obviously'. She went quiet for a moment before asking in a small voice,

"Is Mom okay?"

He saw the look of revelation on her face that she was asking _him_ of all people. He saw her mind trip on it and stagger, falling back onto the 'beat him to a pulp and then stake him' fail safe. He jumped in before she hit it.

"She's fine. Your sister is with her."

Something strange passed over her when he said 'sister' but it was gone in the next instant.

"She is a bloody pain the arse isn't she? Your sister, not your Mom," he said only half-joking. It was the right move. A weak smile flitted across Buffy's face.

"Tell me about it."

Just as suddenly the shutters came down and there was anger in her face.

"Stay away from her Spike."

The sudden swing in her mood hit him like a back hander across the face. He held his hands up in surrender.

"Woah. Okay. I won't go near her." His one was surprised and hurt.

She swung back almost as quickly. Her shoulders slumped, face weary and shook her head as though to clear her thoughts.

"It has been a long night."

"You should rest Buffy."

She snapped her head up to look at him hard.

"You did it again." He glanced around him and gave her a confused look. "You called me Buffy," she clarified. "You've started doing that."

His stomach dipped nastily and he swallowed.

"That's your name, Slayer."

She narrowed her eyes at him but seemed too tired to pursue that line of questioning.

"You were in my basement."

"Stealing," he clarified again, a tad too keenly. She frowned.

"Right." She arranged her thoughts carefully before speaking. "Spike. Next time I find you in my house without an invite I _will_ break something...as in a body part."

Spike gave a half disbelieving laugh, mostly as exhale of air.

"Unbelievable! I saved your neck you know," he pointed his finger at her and she stared him down incredulously.

"You're kidding right? You almost got me killed, kicking the knife out of my hand like that. You scream like a girl by the way."

"I do not," he protested, offended, "and, yes, I did kick it out of your hands – but then I threw it back to you." He tilted his head with hands outstretched, waiting for the praise. It didn't come.

"Just get out," she muttered, more tired than he had ever seen her. With a nod he headed for the back door.

"Just remember what I said, okay?" he paused before leaving, "You know where to find me."

She raised her eyes to him.

"Spike..."

"Yes, all right, I'm going." He swept out the door and let it click shut behind him, moving only as far as his favourite tree and taking up residence there. H missed the end of her sentence.

"I was going to say thank you," Buffy whispered into the still air of the kitchen. She stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders. "Probably just as well." With one last check of her face she went upstairs to join her family.


	6. The Faith Effect

**A/N Set post 4x16. Faith in Buffy's body taunted Spike in the Bronze. Now he wants some payback...in a slightly different from usual manner. Not as canon as I would like but I hope you enjoy it anyway.**

* * *

The Faith effect

Spike stared into the corner of his crypt, teeth clenched hard, trying to keep his mind off a certain seductive voice and warm body pressed against…

"Damn it all!" He exploded to his feet, shattering a nearby table against the wall. "Bloody Slayer." He scrubbed a hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heel against the skin of his head, as though he could force the intrusive thoughts out. Actually, if he was going to do that, he might as well force the behaviour modification chip out at the same time...that wouldn't solve this problem though.

What he needed, he decided, was to get good and laid. He hadn't been with a woman in months. He'd always thought it wasn't healthy but this whole Slayer thing just proved it. He shut his eyes and he was back at the Bronze again, her body pressed against him, her lips practically brushing his own as she whispered exactly what she could do to him. He had wanted her to. His body flushed with heat. The memories from the spell that Willow had cast were not entirely gone. He remembered how it felt to kiss her, to touch her, to _want_ her with that intensity...and she had been teasing him…

"Stop it!" he snarled loudly and crashed out the doors into the cool darkness of the graveyard. He circled the outside of his home a couple of times, boots stomping the ground flat. Clearly trying to get his mind off of this topic wasn't helping. A good hunt would do the trick – exercise, adrenaline – but he couldn't do that either. He clenched his fists. It was all – her – fault.

A small whisper of sound caught his attention and there she was, meandering across the graveyard, eyes absently sweeping over the darkness. She wasn't wearing the same clothes as yesterday – less exposed skin – and her movements were less purposeful, less sexual.

A deep snarl reverberated in his chest. He hated her. Hated her coiled strength, her warm skin, her wide doll eyes, her athletic build, her liquid movements, her grace when fighting, her suggestive voice and her lips. He hated her and suddenly he knew exactly what he needed to do. If ignoring it was only going to make it worse he would tackle the problem head on.

Before he could think better of it he was striding towards her, side on, covering the ground quickly. She didn't notice until he was almost on top of her.

"Oi! Slayer!"

He waited for the chip to kick in, with every step anticipated the blinding pain that never came. She turned in surprise, a puzzled look on her face.

"Spike?" It turned to instant dislike. "What are you...?"

He cut her off. In the next stride he had reached her, cupped her face in both hands and pressed his mouth to hers.

It was how he remembered it. Heat swept through him and for one brief dizzying moment he felt her respond, felt her get caught up in the whirl. Her hands moved up to his chest, lips parted slightly under his own and then there was the sudden smack of cold air, followed swiftly by the smack of a punch that sent him reeling backwards. _Now_ his head hurt.

"Ow!" he shouted indignantly but was drowned out by Buffy's yelling.

"Spike! What the hell?"

"It's _your_ fault," he pointed a finger at her, "after what happened at the Bronze yesterday..." he trailed off at the look of fear on her face.

"What happened at the Bronze yesterday?" Her tone was full of dread, wary.

He stared at her incredulously.

"You know, 'I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled...pop you like warm champagne...'" The look of absolute mortification on her face halted him from continuing. She opened her mouth to ask a question but couldn't seem to get the words out. Screwing up her face she tried again, with effort.

"We didn't..." she gestured between them, her voice a stammer. He gave her a blank look, which she returned with a significant one and gestured more vigorously. "You know?" The penny dropped.

Spike screwed up his face into a look of disgust in answer. "No!" He didn't know why disgust was his automatic reaction. A few moments ago that had been his exact intention. He pushed away the conflicting thoughts.

Relief drained her body of tension and she shut her eyes to savor it.

"Good. That's good."

Spike watched her for a moment before shattering her quiet.

"You have _no_ memory of yesterday?"

Buffy opened her eyes and gave him a steady look.

"They aren't my memories. That wasn't me."

Spike smiled to himself knowingly, partially self-deprecating, and nodded. "Right." He snapped his head up and spread his arms wide. "It all makes perfect sense now. I mean," he gave a short laugh, "why _else_ would you come on to me like that."

"Right." She stared at him in confusion at his tone. He was confused himself. Was that hurt? Petulance? Poor little Spike not bad enough for the goody, goody Slayer? Nonsense.

"Right," he echoed back and shook off the feeling of rejection. "So someone took your body for a ride, huh?"

"Faith."

"Faith, right. You know," he wagged a finger at her, "I'd quite like to meet this Faith, in her body of course."

"I bet you would," Buffy said with a hint of a scorn. "You'd make a good couple."

"You really think so," Spike mockingly preened.

"Sure," Buffy said perkily. "She likes easy marks and you like psychotic skanks."

She hit a nerve. Spike snarled and prepared to launch as the blinding pain in his head made him stagger backwards. She tutted patronisingly at him.

"Now, now. No need for that."

"I should have let you think we did it last night," he growled, hand still on his head, "that would have really torn you up, messed up your head. How would you have been able to be with your soldier boy knowing that if he knew you'd slept with a vampire he would be disgusted. Oh wait...you've already done that..."

He'd forgotten that just because he couldn't hurt her that didn't mean that she couldn't hurt him. There were a series of blows about his person, some of which he managed to block before she hit him so hard his back slammed into a crypt wall and she was pining him to it, fist drawn back. Despite the pain though all he could do was smirk.

"That got you didn't it."

"I should just stake you here and now," she stated, her desire to do so weaving through her words.

"But you won't," he replied confidently, eyes steady on her own and she lowered her fist.

"Why not?"

"Because that would be _wrong_." He trilled the last word just as Faith had and it had the desired effect. Buffy took a step back.

"You are a pig, Spike."

The vampire rolled his head to get the imaginary cricks out and brushed the dust off his coat.

"It's like I said yesterday Slayer – once I get this chip out of my head you and I...are going to have a confrontation."

Buffy looked at him in the exact same way she had yesterday and said the same words.

"You can count on it." This time though she said it with dislike and a promise of pain. Yesterday Faith's tone had promised something else entirely.

She turned and began to walk away but he couldn't leave it there. He had to have the last word.

"Oh, and by the way," she didn't even pause as he shouted after her. It infuriated him. "Faith was right about you being a stuck-up tight arse."

That stopped her in her tracks, but not for the reason he hoped. She turned back and advanced slowly on him, eyes flashing so angrily he wanted to back away but instead held his ground until she was practically touching him.

"Answer me this question Spike," her voice was low and dangerous. "I'm curious. If you hate me so much, which you clearly do, why did you kiss me just now?"

It was a good question and one he had been pondering the answer to since he had made the decision to do so, but he had an answer. Fortunately for him the truth in this situation would damage the Slayer more than a lie. The tension dropped from his shoulders and he looked into her eyes intently. His voice dropped deep and dark, seductive.

"Because if we have sex it will be the best damn sex you or I will ever have." She was startled and he continued almost matter-of-factly. "It would be passionate, hot, intense and leave you unable to breath." He paused to let it sink in, let her acknowledge the truth ad try to deny it to herself. He dropped his lips to her ear, "I wouldn't be the only one being ridden at a gallop." He drew back. "That's why."

Final word said he turned away, leaving her standing stunned in the middle of the cemetery, hating him for telling the truth.


End file.
